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Monday, May 30, 2005

A DAY FOR THE FALLEN

Thick black smoke rose into the air that day.
The smell of it, heavy almost sweet. It was Death.
Colors seem overly bright.
I've been in the sun all my life it seems. Hot.
Heat never ending heat. Why can't I just go.
Home. Hot Summer pavement not dirt.
The noise from explosions send childen running.
Not in fear, laughter. No more laughter.
Just a fleeting ring in my ear. Fading.
Thick black smoke rises into the air today.
The smell of it, heavy almost sweet. It is food.
Not from some place I've never been.
but our backyards rolling fields green.
Green as far as the eye can see.
Celebrate, remember.
A day for the fallen.

baseballfury